


Shaky Ground

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Essential tremor, M/M, essential tremor!roger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 04:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: “You don’t get it, Bri! I don’t want to eat easy foods! I don’t want you to feed me! One minute I’m normal and the next I can’t stop shaking. And it’s spreading, Bri. It’s spreading! My chin. It’s got my chin too. I’ll be a shivering mess by next year! I hate this. I hate this!” Roger yelled, ending his rant by throwing his plate across the room, not even staying to see it shatter. He ran to their room, slamming the door and locking it.





	Shaky Ground

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Disabled-Queen-HC on tumblr.  
> Anon asked: hello!! so i have this thing called ET, and it’s basically just that my hands shake really bad, and i’m really young to have it, but it can work it’s way up to my vocal chords and fuck all that up in the future. i was wondering if maybe you could write some maylor where rogers really scared of losing his voice and his ability to use utensils properly if the shaking gets worse?

“ _Goddamn it!_ ” Roger hissed, throwing his fork onto the floor with every ounce of strength he had. 

His hands couldn’t stop shaking. The more he willed them to steady, the faster and more chaotic they shook. He was _trying_ to eat the vegetarian fried rice Brian had so thoughtfully made for him, but he was only able to get **maybe** 10 grains into his mouth before it all fell onto the table and into his lap.

He was frustrated, tired and hungry. Worst of all, Brian who sat in front of him couldn’t stop frowning, unsure of how to help. This was supposed to be a little at home date night, but Roger’s anger and infernal trembling hands had already ruined it.

“Hey, we c-” Brian started, his voice soft but Roger cut him off.

“No. No. You spent all afternoon on this rice and I’m going to fucking eat it. I just need a minute to get my hands under control,” Roger said, face going red. Essential Tremor caused a lot of issues, but doctors never mentioned to him the irritation and embarrassment that came with it. He couldn’t eat something his boyfriend made for him. He physically could not get it into his mouth. Roger didn’t handle embarrassment well.

The fork, which had scratched the wood floor, was picked up, wiped off and dipped back into the mountain of rice. With determination and ire boiling in his gut, Roger attempted to bring it back up to his mouth. 

As expected, at least by Brian, it wasn’t successful.

“Roger, love, I think we should-”

“Brian, no! No! This isn’t a disability! I should be able to fucking feed myself! I can do this!” Roger seethed, his eyes watering. 

“I get that, but I think I can make you something easier to eat…” Brian said as he eased himself out of his chair. He should’ve thought through his cooking endeavor more thoroughly. 

“You don’t get it, Bri! I don’t want to eat easy foods! I don’t want you to feed me! One minute I’m normal and the next I can’t stop shaking. And it’s spreading, Bri. It’s spreading! My chin. It’s got my chin too. I’ll be a shivering mess by next year! I hate this. _I **hate** this!_” Roger yelled, ending his rant by throwing his plate across the room, not even staying to see it shatter. He ran to their room, slamming the door and locking it.

He could’ve handled this a lot better, but that wouldn’t be in Roger’s character. He let things build until he exploded. 

He felt so embarrassed. Ashamed. Useless. How could something as simple as a hand tremor turn his life upside down? He didn’t know. 

All he knew was that there wasn’t a cure and he wasn’t one of the lucky ones who had their ET stay localized. He knew his voice would be going in the upcoming years. He’d be nodding and quaking and ticking and flapping and the fact that he couldn’t even eat at this stage _terrified_ him.

He buried himself into his bed and wailed. 

Brian stood in the dining room, taking it all in. He knew Roger was struggling. That was obvious. But there was only so much Brian could do. Cuddles and hand massages only got him so far.

He sighed, kneeling onto the ground to pick up the broken plate. He had to do something before Roger crumbled. He was the type to want it perfect or not at all. At this rate, he’d emotionally check out in 2 months, max. 

_God, help me_ , he mouthed, tossing the porcelain into the trash.

♚

“Where are we?” Roger asked, looking all around the building as the walked down the hallway, arms linked.

“Somewhere,” Brian teased, smiling wide enough for his little ‘fangs’ to show.

“Obviously! Tell me!” Roger said, poking Brian’s side, which made him squeak.

“Ah, alright! It’s a painting class. You know, the ones where you drink wine and stuff,” Brian said, stopping at the door which lead to the class.

“Painting…?” Roger asked, his demeanor slowly becoming meek. Painting..required precision and a steady hand. Was Brian joking?

“Yes! This session is going to be about abstract art!” Brian said excitedly, rocking on his heels a little.

Roger’s eyes lit up. Abstract art? Like the kind with wiggly lines, no defined shapes and overall madness?

“Really?” Roger asked, still a little unsure.

“Really!” Brian said, tugging Roger inside.

They sat in the back, Brian pouring them a glass of wine while Roger marveled at the brushes. Sitting in the cup between them were two brushes, the handles on them thick. Not the skinny ones everyone else had. 

His shaky hand reached out for it, holding it firmly in his grip. He looked over at Brian, beaming. 

By the end of the class, while Brian had painted a bunch of dizzying circles, all in shades of blue and green, Roger went to town on his canvass, splashing colors, drawing the most unsteady lines, lopsided squares and uneven dots. It was hideous and nonsensical but it was fun!

There was no pressure to be good. No pressure to stop his hands from doing what they were going to do no matter what. Roger was able to take his disadvantages and turn them into advantages. 

Roger couldn’t stop smiling, stopping his masterpiece to kiss Brian’s cheek every so often. 

This wouldn’t stop the progression or cure anything. But it was positive, something Roger hadn’t experienced for months now. 

He sat back, looking at his work of art, grinning. 

“It’s hideous,” Roger said with a chuckle.

“I think it’s quite lovely,” Brian said, sipping his wine. “We should hang it up in the living room,” he added.

Roger bounced. “Yes!!”

As the two walked back to the car, Roger was practically skipping as he held onto his canvass.

“We need to go back there! Or do it at home!” Roger sung.

“Oh, well we can, but next week I signed us up for a sculpting class.”

“Sculpting? Like..abstract sculpting?” 

Brian snorted. “Kind of. You can do and make whatever the hell you want. No wine this time, but they have cheese…”

“It’‘s a date!”

Brian smiled, opening the car for Roger and putting their art in the back. He hadn’t seen Roger so happy in such a long time. If he just kept reminding Roger he was still capable of so much, maybe Roger wouldn’t be so hard on himself. Sure, he couldn’t eat soup without help anymore, but he could do so much more. Hell, they even had a glass blowing class next month and Brian knew Roger would lose his mind over that.

Brian buckled up, gazing over at Roger who was doing the same.

“I love you, my little Picasso,” he said, reaching out to hold one of Roger’s trembling hands.

Roger squeezed Brian’s hand, saying, “I love you too, uh, my tall Picasso.” 


End file.
